The saga of the missing cat concludes with happy ending

Monday

Aug 3, 2009 at 3:36 PM

Ursula Thacker

I thought you might like to share in the small drama that played itself out in our neighborhood just two weeks ago.It started with Irela standing at our front door, tear-stained and visibly shaken. "Fredo is gone. Gone," she cried in Spanish-accented phrases. "One minute he was with me, the next he was gone."Noting our puzzled look, she quickly explained, "My beautiful white Persian cat. My Fredo," and she pronounced Fredo in the soft Spanish way, "Fraydo."Keyed in, our sympathies were immediately with her. We offered to check under our back deck where neighborhood cats have somehow managed to find shelter of sorts and one even decided to have her kittens there. Irela and Frank searched, but Fredo was not to be found in the jungle under our deck.Irela explained that she and Fredo had been out for a walk, with Fredo unleashed as he now had become accustomed to his new surroundings. When they had first moved into our area, we had been surprised seeing someone walking a cat on a leash, but why not? Fredo was a very beautiful white Persian cat and a very special pet. Recently, however, we had seen cat and mistress happily walking side by side with Fredo unleashed. Occasionally he would bound out of sight into some shrubbery to investigate its mysteries but always returned to Irela when she called.Irela continued to explain."Today I stopped to say hello to my neighbor for a minute, maybe two minutes, and when I turned around Fredo was gone. I called. I looked under the big tree by her house. I looked in the bushes. I don't understand."Irela was close to tears again. We understood her distress and, since all our back yards open up to each other, we conjectured the cat may be caught in the briars of the wild blackberry bush at the end of our lawn near the rabbit warren. A thorough check was made there as well as under the azalea bushes and the vine-choked sycamore tree, but there was no sign of a large white cat.Irela's husband came from Chapel Hill with a stack of flyers with a photo of Fredo, an excellent description of the cat, cell phone numbers and a startling offer of a munificent $500 reward for the return of the beloved cat. Before returning to Chapel Hill that evening, Thomas had fastened a flyer to every pole in the neighborhood and left a good supply with Irela to pass around the next day.Early on Thursday morning Irela was out again calling "Fraydo, Fraydo, Fraydo," her voice carried on the breeze as she wandered across the area lawns and into neighboring streets. Relatives and friends joined in the search. She and her father-in-law visited the animal pound, and she called on all veterinarians and placed a classified ad in The Dispatch.Wanting to do our part, on her behalf, we e-mailed a letter to the newspaper.A resourceful young boy offered his dedicated services and reported on more strays than we ever believed to have around, but no white ones. He found to his delight a cat with four newborn kittens, but that source was ignored since Fredo obviously would not have kittens. And I dreamt about Fraydo on Thursday night, which, of course, was of no help whatever but showed the impression Fredo's disappearance had made on me.Friday morning the search continued, and we heard the call again, "Fraydo, Fraydo, Fraydo," but suddenly all was silence. Shortly before noon, Irela stood at our front door again with a smile a mile wide and arms outstretched in triumphant joy."Fraydo is back!" she called out to us. "I have my Fraydo again!"When? Where? Who? Our questions flew, and the answers came.Her neighbor, the one she had stopped to talk to, saw Fredo under her tree sometime Friday morning, ran to pick him up and return him to his owner.Irela was overjoyed. The neighbor who collected the $500 was overjoyed, and everyone who had entered the search for Fredo was overjoyed.But I confess I wish there were a bit more explanation and closure to this otherwise happy ending.Fredo was returned unhurt, and that is good. He did not seem especially dirty or weary as if returning from a long trek. Oh, his pink-tinged white hair was understandably a bit mussed up, but he was still the same handsome fellow.If only Fredo could tell us about his two-day sojourn but, alas, we do not understand his mewing.Fredo is moving to Chapel Hill along with his owners, and I wonder if he will ever remember the stir he created in our little corner of Lexington. I believe on some future hot July day a teasing breeze will carry back to me the haunting call, "Fraydo, Fraydo, Fraydo," and I will remember.Ursula Thacker is taking a one-year sabbatical, but she may be back, the good Lord and the editor willing. So she is not saying goodbye, but auf wiedersehen (see you again) and sends her best and God's blessing.